


Clipped Wings

by amuk



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There is a ghost in the mansion," Sakura's mom warns her. Sakura has already met him already, the broken boy, and sometimes healing takes time and actions, a gentle touch and the knowledge that you'll be there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clipped Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Community: Autumnwrite
> 
> Challenge: 24/50 (write 50 stories using 50 prompts in 48 hours)
> 
> Prompt: #22—Emerald eternity

i.

 

“There is a ghost in that house,” Sakura’s mother warns her. “Don’t go in it.”

 

“A ghost?” Sakura raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little old to believe in ghosts?”

 

“Sakura,” her mother sighs, “It is not a…literal ghost.”

 

“Oh? Then what is it?”

 

“It’s…” her mother pauses, biting her lip, “Well, I’m not sure actually. However, considering the sounds coming from the house and the history behind it—”

 

“The history? About…that clan?”

 

“The clan got wiped out by a single member, leaving only himself and his little brother as survivors. That is the clan that used to live in that area, and that is the house where the two brothers used to live. The whole clan could be haunting the place and the younger brother…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“He hasn’t been the same since that day. He is almost a ghost himself.”

 

“Mother, who has been telling you these things?” Sakura laughs.

 

“People talk,” her mother frowns, “You should be taking this matter more seriously.”

 

“I thought you knew better than to listen to gossip,” Sakura smiles before looking up at the clock, “The stores are going to close in an hour, right?”

 

As her mother disappears out the kitchen door, hurrying to get her grocery list and wallet, Sakura glances out the window to the old mansion. Her eyes linger as her mother calls for the girl to move.

 

_You didn’t need to warn me mother._

 

Sakura turns away from the window and heads out the front door.

 

_I’ve already met the ghost._

…

…

…

…

ii.

 

“Hello,” Sakura calls out, her voice echoing in the empty mansion, “is anyone here?” She and her mother had just moved into the house nearby. Bored of cleaning the house, she decided to visit the neighbors. When she knocked on the door and twisted the handle, surprisingly it opened.

 

Cautiously, she steps into the foyer and she notices how elegant the building is.

 

Or maybe that should be _was_. While there are tapestries of foreign flowers and animals, they are faded and dusty with time and neglect. The small statues of regal tigers and royal lions are a dull colour and there is a thick air, filled with dust and gloom, in the room.

 

Nobody should be able to live in here.

 

Wandering through the halls, Sakura peers into each room she finds and wonders how this place could have looked like before it was abandoned. The blackened fireplace, the tarnished bronze plates—she sees them and instead imagines a warm, bright fire and a gleam from their reflection on the metal.

 

Opening one last door, she notices a figure sitting on a moth-eaten chair. The figure is staring outside and she realizes with a start it is a live boy.

 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes quickly, “But the door was open and I didn’t hear anyone, so I came—”

 

He stays still, no movement at all, and she doubts he is listening. Hesitantly, she walks closer to him until she is right beside him and can see his face properly.

 

Dark hair that is sullied and dirty, a pale face that has traces of black smudges and dirt are what she notices first. His clothes are worn and his body looks frail. What strikes her the most, though, are his eyes. They are blank and empty, like the house itself, and she doesn’t doubt for a moment that while he is alive, he is also dead.

Grabbing his hand (and it’s cold, oh so cold, like the marble figures she saw), she pulls at it softly and his eyes slowly move to her face.

 

Instantly, she pities him. He looks like he needs some life and she decides to give him that.

 

“Hello, I’m Haruno Sakura,” she gives him a warm smile—probably the first he has seen in who knows how long, “I’ll come back later.”

 

Waving, she silently escapes the room and the house.

…

…

…

…

iii.

 

“Sakura,” her mother looks up from the dishes she is cleaning, “Where are you going now?”

 

“Oh,” Sakura smiles back, thinking quickly, “I am just going to meet the neighbors. I didn’t get to see them before and I want to give them a slice of the cake I made.” It is the truth, in a sense. The only person Sakura did meet was the boy in the mansion and she is going to give food to him (he looked like he needed it). She just isn’t going to mention who it is exactly she is visiting.

 

“Really?” the older woman eyed the bag in her daughter’s hands, “Can’t this be done tomorrow?”

 

“Mother, the food won’t keep that long.”

 

“Why not make something new tomorrow?”

 

“Mother, we won’t be able to eat all of this. Why let food go to waste? Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

 

Sakura’s mother stares at her before smiling. “I’m glad to see you actually _listen_ to what I say. Ok, go ahead, but don’t be too late.”

 

“Of course,” Sakura waves goodbye before disappearing into the night. After quickly greeting their other neighbor and giving them a small portion of the food in her bag, she stealthily sneaks back into the mansion.

 

“Hello,” she calls out, “I’m back.”

 

She doesn’t expect a response and doesn’t get one. Quickly, she treads the tiled floors back to the boy. He is in the same spot as earlier but she can tell he moved a little. There is a new stain of food on his shirt and she can still smell burnt food.

 

“Here, time to give you some proper food,” she tells him softly as she prods him. He makes no movement and she realizes that he won’t move unless he thinks he needs to.

 

He probably has a fixed schedule that he follows without fail.

 

“Fine, I’ll help,” she moves his arms and rearranges his body until he is sitting in a proper position. Putting the plate on his lap, she watches his hands automatically move and place the food in his mouth.

 

Good. She was worried that she’d have to help him eat but it doesn’t seem like that is the case.

 

Half an hour passes and he is done everything she gave him. His face is still blank and she quickly dabs his mouth with a wet cloth.

 

“I’ll be back in the morning,” Sakura promises him once again before she departs.    

…

…

…

…

iv.

 

_Once upon a time, there was a happy family. There was a father, a mother, and two brothers, along with an assortment of cousins, aunts, and uncles. It was a large clan, filled with innocent children and patient parents. Sometimes the father was harsh and demanding, but he was always protecting his family from the world. The mother would comfort and heal her children, while the older brother taught his sibling the ways of the world._

_For the younger brother, this world was perfect. He didn’t want anything to change._

_Once upon a time, there was a massacre. An older brother, filled with power and desire, destroyed a world of laugher and light in order to replace it with death and darkness. A younger brother grew accustomed to the stench of blood and wondered why he was betrayed by his family. Why his brother had to burn everything good, leaving only nightmares and tortured feelings to fill their place._

_Soon, the younger brother turned to hate. He became a destroyer himself._

_Once upon a time, there was an awakening. A dreaming boy woke up and realized what he thought was real was fake. The world around him dissolved into illusions and what he thought was evil was actually good. The colours around him inverted and he didn’t know what to believe any more._

_The boy decided to stay in a lonely house for the rest of time, reliving memories. It was easier to live in a world of shadows._

 

 This is the story Sakura read in the library two weeks later. It is a story that made her ache because this is the story of the boy she met everyday.

 

She wants to bring colour back into his world, to show him that what is real isn’t always a lie.

…

…

…

…

v.

 

Five days after she first met the boy, Sakura leaves her house early in order to visit him again. She writes a note saying she’s discovering her surroundings and places it on the fridge before taking several cleaning supplies and cans of food with her.

 

Today she is going to clean his room. She wishes that she could do the whole house but that is hard for one person to do. Instead, she’ll start with his room and clean a little bit day by day.

 

(She’ll slowly erase whatever it is that holds him to the gloom and replace it with sunshine.)

 

He doesn’t seem to notice her again as she places a tray with breakfast on his lap and she watches as he mechanically takes a bite. There is something captivating about him, she thinks, and maybe one day she can convince him to take a bath. With fluid grace, he finishes the meal and she takes the tray off his lap.

 

He doesn’t respond at all and she frowns. It would be nice to have some sort of recognition for her work.

 

Shaking her head, she starts to clean his room by opening the window first. It’s harder than she thought and it doesn’t budge at all.

 

“Come on,” she growls, “Open up. Just a little.”

 

It still doesn’t move but then she notices a pale hand touch the edges of the window pane and open a latch. Surprised, she turns around to see the hand retract to the owner. He still doesn’t move his head or make any other motion but she gives him a thankful smile anyways before opening the window.

 

 _He does notice after all._ That thought motivates her to clean everything even more thoroughly. Filling a bucket of with water, she adds soap and scrubs the windows. At first, it seems like nothing happens. The windows remain dirty. Then, after hours, a slow change occurs. Years of grime and dirt flake off, revealing a cleaner and more transparent glass. She can see through it properly, see the sun play into the room and reveal the dust in the air.

 

She hopes he can see it too.

 

-x-

 

It is late evening before she is done with her task. She doesn’t have patience to clean her own room but for this stranger, she spent the whole day cleaning. The windows are clean, the curtains are washed and hanging outside to dry, along with his blankets and carpet. As she couldn’t find anything else, she ended up cleaning them by hand, using a tub of water and soap. The mattresses are back inside, after being beaten to remove bugs and dust. Shelves and other furniture are clean, having been dusted and washed with a rag-cloth. Brass ornaments are gleaming properly and the room has a fresher, cleaner look. It even smells nicer too, now that the dust is gone. She even placed flowers to give it a nice scent.

 

Cleaning his house might become a once-a-week thing. She couldn’t do it everyday for sure.

 

The only thing she didn’t clean from his room, though, is the chair he sits on. When she convinces him to take a bath, she’ll clean it.

 

She leaves again, waving goodbye, with another promise that she’ll return the next day.

…

…

…

…

vi.

 

“Sakura,” her mother calls out to her daughter before she can depart, “I need you to go and buy some groceries for me.”

 

“Mother,” Sakura tries to think of an excuse, “I can’t. I have to—”

 

“You will go,” her mother frowns at her, “I need you to do some things for me and you always find some way to worm out of them. You will do it quickly and be back before lunch.”

 

“Mother—” a warning glance was sent to Sakura and she fell silent.

 

“Now, take this list and here’s money to buy the items,” Sakura takes them quietly, wondering what she should do as she departs from the house. For the last month, she visited him everyday at the same time without fail. What would happen if he thinks she is leaving him like everything else did?

 _He needs to stand on his own_ , a small voice whispers.

 

A larger one responds, _He did long ago. What did that give him?_

 

The stores she walks in and out of are large and filled with an assortment of items. One has only pastries, while another has only fruits. There is one that sells everything from food to clothing and there is a store that dedicates itself to art. As she wanders through the market place, buying the items on the list absentmindedly, she wonders what his reaction will be. Will he be disappointed? Angry? Hurt?

 

Or worse, will he feel nothing?

 

She doesn’t think she could bear it if he doesn’t feel anything. As she walks past a store, its silver windows reflecting the world, she sees a glint of metal inside. It’s a small, green leaf on a chain. It isn’t the prettiest or the most expensive, but it draws her eyes the most and she finds herself buying it. Luckily her mother gave her extra money to spend for herself.

 

Holding it in the palm of her hand, she notices that it’s made of glass fragments and got its shape from fire. A glass-blower must have made it.

 

Looking up at the sky, she hurries up with her task. It’s nearly noon.

 

-x-

 

When she finally arrives at the mansion, it is late afternoon and she has only a few hours to spend with him.

 

“I’m sorry I came late. I had to help my mother,” she babbles, nervously twitching her fingers together as she stands in front of him. Quickly, she gives him the leaf necklace. Then, as though nothing happened, she goes out into another room and starts to clean it. So far, nearly all of the rooms on the top floor had been cleaned out. All that was is the second floor and a bedroom that seemed to be his parents.

 

She doesn’t want to touch that one just yet and decides to go downstairs next time.

 

Sakura sings softly as she dusts the wooden table, the tune flooding into the mansion and getting rid of the disturbing silence that lay there, oppressing all. He remains still on a chair, his fingers slowly and softly moving with the music.

 

He started responding to her singing a week ago and since then she sings whenever she’s in the house. Maybe it is true, what they say, that music heals the soul. It’s certainly working on him. He even moves into the room she is cleaning, like he is sitting in there now. She never actually sees him move; it’s as though he knows where she is going to clean before she does herself.

 

As she waltzes around the room in front of him, she thinks she might have imagined his shoulders relax when she entered the room, apologizing.

…

…

…

…

vii.

 

The boy is a ghost, Sakura thinks one day, never speaking, never moving. He is just there, like the air and the light, a part of nature. It isn’t uncomfortable to find him suddenly in the room she wants to clean or decides to spend her day in.

 

It has been a month and a half since her first visit and the house is practically cleaned, except for one room. His parents’ room.

 

She still doesn’t touch it because it is something sacred.

 

“You know,” she murmurs, washing his face again, “You need a bath.” She scrubs away the grim and dirt, revealing a pale face behind it. A mask that slips away revealing the actor behind it.

 

She gets up and moves to the bathroom nearby. Turning on the water, she waits for it to heat up and fill the tub before stopping the flow. It’s a good thing she cleaned the bathroom and the clothes in the house, she reflects as she grabs a few towels from the cupboard nearby. If she hadn’t, he would have to remain dirty until she did.

 

Placing the towel and some washed clothes on the sink, she heads back to him.

 

“Now, you are going to take a bath today,” she tries to pull him out of his chair. Surprisingly, for someone who relies on her food and stays in a chair all day, he is stronger and heaver than she expected and she falls forward instead.

 

“Wow, you have some decent abs, for someone who doesn’t work out,” she comments as she pushes her hands on his chest in order to get off.

 

Trying again, she pulls him. This time, he does get off his chair and follows her as she directs him into the bathroom. “Now, don’t come out until you’re clean,” she instructs and she sits outside, waiting patiently for him to finish. As she waits, she reads a novel about a man who is always searching for something he never finds.

 

-x-

 

An hour later, the door opens and she finds herself facing someone she doesn’t recognize. It is the boy, but not the boy. His hair is clean and hangs around his face in a dripping mess, while his skin actually is revealed to have the pale, moonlight colour she suspected. He still has a vacant look in his eyes, but there is something more in them now, something that makes them look a little less empty.

 

Just like the house, the boy has been washed anew.

…

…

…

…

viii.

 

“Sakura, I won’t be back for three days. You’ll be good, right?” the female worries over her daughter as she hurriedly gives out instructions. “Now, I might be a little late, but there should be enough food for you to survive four days without me. If you need anything, just call me or use the money in the envelope in my table’s top drawer.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Sakura embraces her mother and pulls back. “Now, if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late. Come on, you need to get out.”

 

Looking back nervously, she continues to call out instructions before departing.

 

“Finally,” Sakura sighs, before grabbing a bag she prepared yesterday. It is hidden under her bed and she carefully double checks to make sure everything she needs is in there.

 

She is going to stay with the boy the next three days, to see him move and figure out his routine. There are so many things about him she wants to know and now she can find them out in peace.

 

Before she leaves the house, she reaches into the cupboard and grabs a few perishable goods, such as bread and fruit. It would be nice to have a change every now and then. She locks the door and heads toward the mansion.

 

-x-

 

“Hello,” she calls out once again. It's out of habit now more than anything and she carefully makes her way up the marbled, curved staircase into the depths of the house. It's brighter now, she notes, than it was when she first came here. It actually looks as though the house is being used.

 

She smiles at that. There was actually a difference, a result to what she did.

 

He is not in his room and she looks around with surprise. She didn't have any cleaning plans that day, so he should not be in another room. Wandering through the halls, she peers into each room in order to discover he isn't there either.

 

After fruitlessly searching for an hour, she heads back downstairs to put the food in the kitchen.

 

That is where she finds him, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. He is still staring with that blank look, still not moving, but the fact that he is downstairs for food is in itself a reaction.

 

Normally she ends up giving him meals upstairs.

 

“I didn't expect to see you here,” she tells him, before she begins to chatter away. It doesn’t matter what she says, as long as she says something and fills the air with more than just silence. Her slim fingers quickly rearrange the cans she brought and place the fruit in a bowl. Taking a knife, she peels an apple she already washed and cuts it.

 

“Here, breakfast,” she smiles, turning to give him the plate. The slices are rearranged into a flower shape. “I hope this is enough,” she continues, taking a step toward him.

 

Oddly enough, he walks the remaining steps toward her and takes the plate out of her surprised fingers.

 

Today is filled with surprises.

 

-x-

 

Late at night, when she is setting her futon in his bedroom, she quietly watches him climb into bed. He hasn’t changed his clothes, wearing the same things to bed.

 

“You know,” she tells him, “It isn’t very sanitary to sleep in what you wear.” Getting up, she pulls him out of the bed.

 

(It’s easier than last time, as though he is following her lead.)

 

“Here, wear these pajamas. I cleaned them for a reason,” she pushes him into the bathroom, clucking her tongue as she does, “Honestly, do you do this everyday? You’re going to have to change before I leave from now on.”

 

While he changes, she fixes her pillow and blankets to make them more comfortable. His bed is a western-styled one, on a frame with wooden posts at each corner. A canopy of cloth is held up by the posts, a roof to the bed.

 

The door swings open and he fluidly, like an unseen current is carrying him, moves back to the bed and climbs on.

 

She cheerfully bids him goodnight as she turns off the lights and lies down to sleep.

 

Sleeping in the same room as a person reveals a lot about that person. Barriers drop unintentionally, especially when those barriers haven’t been used much.

 

 The mask slips off.

 

This is how she discovers the nightmares.

 

The stars are twinkling in the midnight sky, a curtain of diamonds with a black backdrop. The small pinpricks are threatened to be overwhelmed by the darkness but the light shines bravely.

 

A muffled scream sounds in the room and Sakura wakes up in a start. Groans and pained sounds continue where the scream left off and she realizes that the boy is the one screaming.

 

“Hey,” she stands beside his bed and prods his shoulder. “Wake up. It’s just a nightmare,” she shakes his shoulders, “Please wake up. I’m getting worried.”

 

He doesn’t open his eyes and she continues to shake him. Finally, after an eternity of horror, his eyes open and there is a haze of panic in them.

 

“Are you—” she stops when he blindly throws his arms around her waist, pulling her down onto the bed.

 

“Eh?” she blinks in surprise, “Uh, I think you’re awake now,” she nervously laughs, pushing on his chest like she did the last time she fell on him.

 

Sakura doesn’t make it very far before his arms pull her back, trembling slightly, and she lies still beside his shaking body. “Oh,” she murmurs as he shivers, a lonely boy, and she hugs him tightly.

 

“I’m here,” she whispers into his ears, her hands stroking his ebony spikes, “I’m here.”

 

Eyes she can barely see in the dim light look up at hers, softening, before the boy just collapses completely into her.

 

She holds him the entire night.

 

-x-

 

“Ahh,” she nibbles her lip as she stares distraught at the clock, “My mom is going to be home soon. Very soon. But…”

 

The nightmares continued every night and while she helped chase them away while was sleeping here, she can’t do it anymore. The three days were over and now she can only visit during the day again.

Hesitant fingers hold her hand and she looks down at him in surprise. He blinks, his eyes filled a little more with that something she can’t name, and his expression changes slightly.

 

It’s only a slight change but it takes her breath away.

 

It’s an almost smile, nearly a half-smile. A crescent moon, half in the real world and half an illusion.

 

Just as quickly, her hand is let go and his face returns to its usual passive look.

 

“I’ll be back later,” she smiles at him, relieved. Even if she can’t help him at night, she can still help him in other ways.

 

She’ll make sure of it.

…

…

…

…

ix.

 

Sometimes, when she is just sitting and staring at him, Sakura thinks she might be falling in love with the boy. It’s not a flashy love, one she’ll express when she accepts it, but a quiet love, the kind that is shown in actions and is usually hidden. She doesn’t mind him not realizing or knowing it because he at least acknowledges her help and that is good enough for her.

 

The fact that she can be there for him, helping him, makes her happier than chocolates and roses.

 

She isn’t sure of when she fell in love or even when she realized it. It just happened. One day she thought to herself, “He’s lucky I love him so much,” and that was that.

 

Perhaps that’s what love is, she muses. Not something you can touch or feel, not something that can be recognized or noticed. It comes and goes, waves crashing on a beach, dancing to the beat of an unknown drum. Sometimes it is there, sometimes it isn’t. Slowly, without any thought behind it, it grows, leaves spreading and a bud forming. One day, the flower blooms and that might be a surprise to find it but it isn’t fully a shock because it was there all along. It is just sleeping until it is ready to face the world.

 

 _Why_ can’t be explained, reasons can’t be created, and _how_ is a mystery.

 

Sakura thinks, though, that she might have fallen for his eyes first. While everything else is a frozen wasteland, his eyes contain everything he does and doesn’t feel. A light shining in the dark.

 

Besides that, everything just added onto each other, like a domino effect, until she fell for him completely.

 

She just wishes she could help him more. Help him get rid of the demons in the house, the monsters of the night. Sakura desires more than anything to heal the boy lost in the cage of his heart, setting him free so that he can smile and laugh without being tied down. If he was healed, then maybe he’d walk around more and she’d know his name. He hasn’t spoken at all during the time she spent with him, hasn’t made any noises or attempts at speaking.

 

She fears he forgot how.

 

(Another wish to add to the list.)

 

Wishes don’t come true by themselves, she knows, so she spends time healing him. She cooks in the kitchen, plays music in the living room, stains the hallway floors. There are flowers and open windows in every room, fresh air releasing the must of the old and creating a house that is reborn.

 

Maybe one day, she can help the boy get reborn himself.

…

…

…

…

x.

 

Sasuke closes his eyes, thinking slowly and carefully about what he is going to do next. It’s hard for him, hard to take that step, but he thinks she deserves it.

 

No, he _knows_ she deserves it.

 

Sakura—everyday she repeats her name, smiling, until it sticks into the walls of his memory—had spent the last year helping him. He is not one for help, too stubborn to admit he needs it, but at the beginning he couldn’t care less.

 

He just didn’t feel like doing anything at all. His spirit was in a coma, moving past the world instead of in it.

 

Then, like the spring rain, she started to reveal the colours of the world again. The black and white scenery started to include colours of blue, purple, and orange. The sun became yellow, her hair pink, and the flowers she brought were red. Smells returned, such as the strawberry of her hair and the watermelon of her skin, and he could hear the sounds of her footsteps clearly whenever she walked in the mansion.

 

(He is attuned to her, a compass pointing north.)

 

She stayed with him whenever she could, getting in trouble sometimes but not minding because she wanted to help him.

 

Sasuke couldn’t remember the last time anyone cared enough to even try.

 

For this reason, and thousands of others ( _rocking him to sleep, cooking him meals, painting him pictures of the world he missed_ ), he is going to do this. It isn’t much to most people but he knows she will appreciate it the most.

 

Her footsteps sound in the halls and she throws open the doors, smiling at him as she gives him a hug and talks about her day. There is something comforting about her voice, a bubbling creek, and he leans into her embrace.

 

Looking down, onto her face, he looks at her eyes for the first time as she stops speaking and tilts her head, confused by his actions.

 

They are an emerald colour, the colour of grass and trees, of late night strolls and early morning dreams. They are the colour of eternity and he doesn’t think he’ll ever find another colour as striking as the green in her eyes.

 

Sakura opens her mouth to speak but he instead gently holds her hand, silencing her again.

 

Fingers slowly stroking it, he looks down for a moment before looking back into her eyes and saying, in a scratchy voice that cracks slightly,

 

“My name is Uchiha Sasuke.”


	2. Sora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke doesn't talk too much but sometimes the littlest action can count for more than a thousand words.

i.

He doesn’t talk very much, whether it is her or someone else. Around others, his mouth is sealed shut, a door that is locked and the key is lost. People have to interpret his motions and small changes in expression when looking for a response.

 

Even that is hard. Sasuke’s a closed book around them.

 

At least with Sakura he does something. Usually he just sits silently, their knees nearly touching as they sit on the porch and look at the world around them. Listening to her chatter idly, his eyes scan the surroundings even though he’s seen them a hundred times before. Sometimes he’ll nod when she waits for a response, a slow motion that fit with the lazy scene.

 

She tries not to take this—his lack of response—to heart, tries not to give up and think it’s no use.

 

 _He’s just unused to talking,_ she tells herself, _He’s doesn’t know what it feels like to be listened to._

 

She isn’t sure if she’s convincing herself or just stating facts.

…

…

…

…

…

ii.

It takes her weeks to convince him to escape the empty cocoon of his house. He doesn’t want to, clinging to it like a crab to his shell in subtle ways. Only the front door is unlocked, only the windows to the rooms they stayed in remained open.

 

“You need some sun, you know,” she says, looking up at him from the cushion on the couch. It’s a little old and ratty, stray bits of fluff sticking out from it and tickling her skin. Shifting slightly, she puts her chin in her hands and stares at him. “It’s not healthy to be so pale.”

 

Sasuke stays still, not saying anything like usual. In his hand is a book, the cover shiny and new with a small barcode proclaiming it belongs to the library. His fingers trace the page, as though to absorb the knowledge into his blood, before flipping it.

 

“Hey, I’m serious!” She can tell when she’s being ignored—he isn’t interested with the world outside as much as he is with the world in his house. “Well, I can’t hang out with you half as much then. Mom wants me to show her my friends and help around the house during the summer.”

 

He still says nothing but Sakura can tell she’s got his attention by the ways his hand pauses before flipping the page. The wind blows through the window gently, picking some of the dust off the furniture. For a moment, it hangs there, the mist blocking the sun, before she sneezes and blows the cloud away.

 

“It’s not healthy for me here too—Mom will start thinking I have allergies at this rate.” She waits for a moment, adding the dramatic pause she hates, before continuing. “Besides, if you want more books and other things, then it’ll be quicker. You can come to my place sometimes.”

 

She watches him—she does a lot of that these days, watching like a predator stalking her prey—and thinks that he might agree.

 

It still takes her three weeks to finally pull him out and even then he has to be dragged.

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iii.

 

“You know,” she says to him one late afternoon. The sun is slowly sinking in the horizon, its honey-coloured rays blanketing them. Sasuke’s skin looked slightly tanned, brushed with life. “We should go hiking one day.”

 

He shifts his gaze from the distant tree line to her for a brief moment, a sign to continue.

 

“Well, not right now—it’s going to rain this weekend and school’s not over for a few weeks, but maybe next weekend?” She waits for a response, trying to guess if his slight shift in posture means he agrees, if the ways his eyes rove mean no. “I mean, if you want to, of course.” It’s bait to get him to talk but he doesn’t take it.

 

Instead, he continues to watch the earth eat the sun. She watches with him for a while, watches as they fall deeper and deeper into the sky until it’s pitch black and she can see the stars.

 

“I guess we should take you home,” she sighs, slipping off her porch onto the dry grass. It crackles beneath her feet and she stretches before turning back to him. “Come on—you know my mom doesn’t like it when I go out so late.”

 

As she takes him home, she slides her hand into his. It’s warmer than it used to be, warmer and firmer and more human than rock.

 

“Hopefully next weekend will be sunny,” she murmurs, her voice lowering unconsciously to match the mood. A slight thrill runs up her spine when he squeezes her hand gently, a butterfly’s kiss, and she takes that as a yes.

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iv.

 

Sakura’s mom didn’t know about Sasuke for the longest time. She is clever and cunning, especially with Sakura who tends to keep big things secret. That is how she knew that Sakura had a secret in the first place.

 

Finally, though, Sakura had to introduce them.

 

It went better than she expected.

 

“Who’s this?” Sakura watched as her mom slipped off the oven mitts, her hands calloused and slightly burnt underneath. They were working hands, hands that faced challenges everyday without yielding.

 

“This is…” She paused, unsure if she should give his real name. “This is Uchiha Sasuke. He’s a friend of mine.”

 

“A friend?” Her mom glanced at her daughter, watching her face carefully. Sakura wondered what she saw, what exactly it was she read this time off her face. “I see.”

 

“Sasuke,” Her mom gave her a sharp look, noticing the lack of formalities in his name, something Sakura just realized herself. “This is my mom.”

 

Eyeing the boy for a moment, Sakura’s mom greeted the boy politely.

 

“Uh, he doesn’t like to talk. In fact, today he’s not speaking at all, to raise awareness against child labour. Anyways, we’ll be in the backyard.” Sakura hurried Sasuke out, waving goodbye, and missed her mom’s reply.

 

“He’s going to break your heart, isn’t he?”

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v.

 

Sakura tried persistently for two months to get him to talk. She’d bait him with traps and treats, tried to pull him out of the den of his silence, but it didn’t work. Eventually, she had to give up.

 

(Sakura once tried to imagine him talking non-stop, a eager voice matching expressive hands. It didn’t fit at all, he looked like a hyperactive girl, and she burst into laughter at the thought.

 

Sasuke heard the muffled giggles and snorts and turned to face her, raising an eyebrow when she tried to explain herself.)

 

Instead, Sasuke is very good at conveying his feelings through expressions. Every motion becomes a word, an expression, a secret desire that one can hear if only they would listen. So she tries, leaving the world of voices and sound for the world of shadows and subtlety. She becomes a reader, his actions the page, and tries to understand the expression painted across his face. 

 

Sometimes, she succeeds. It takes her a while before she can understand anything and even then, she only knows only a handful of what he tells her, a fistful that she grabs and pulls out. His language is new and hard to learn.

 

He helps, in his own way. Sasuke’s expressions repeat themselves and sometimes, albeit rarely, he does speak. When he does talk, it is in rare bursts that start and stop like a broken car. There are a lot of pauses, his throat hoarse and in need of oiling, and more often than not they are just small sentences. During these moments, she holds her breathe and wills herself to be completely quiet. Even her heartbeat sounds too loud and she fears that any noise will startle him and his voice will flee like a frightened deer.

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vi.

 

Sometimes she likes to watch him. His arms are bony but she can see signs of what used to be muscle. It’s coming back, little by little, but for now it still looks too thin, skeleton like. His hair has seen better days and she thinks that once upon a time, he must have been very pretty.

 

(Handsome is the word he would probably prefer but pretty is the honest, truthful word.)

 

He’s still pretty, but in a more tragic way. It’s the feeling someone gets when they come to a broken down house and remembers that it used to look majestic.

 

Sasuke notices her staring and Sakura gives him a nervous grin. Sometimes she wonders how he thinks of her, if he even loves her like she does him. It’s easy in stories to claim to not care if the your beloved loves you back, but that takes a lot more courage and strength than she could ever possess.

 

For the moment, though, she’s his whole world and that makes her content.

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vii.

 

He likes to learn. Sometimes she brings him books, pages that contain the knowledge of the world, and he devours them like a hungry child.

 

Other times, she takes him out to the woods surrounding their neighborhood. She tells him tales of honourable samurai, men who would make their last stand with a sword in their hand and courage in their eyes. Ninja also used to go by those woods, stealthily executing plans and living in a world of moonlight and shadows.

 

“I’d like to be a ninja,” she confides to him, “Flying through the night—now, don’t give me that look! I could become a good one.” She angrily stomps the ground at his disbelief and then sighs. “Well, ok, it would probably be hard and I might not be the best, but I could be good.”

 

It’s summer and the forest is a hundred shades of green. Broad leaves block out the sun in some parts, leaving small trails of light to follow. Taking a guide book out of her bag, Sakura flips it open to the last page she was on. “We found a lot, didn’t we? We’re halfway through the book! Soon we could be experts in finding things in the forest and survive here if we need to and…” Her voice trails off as she sees a small flower near her. “I wonder what that is.”

 

Flipping through pages, she glances at the flower every now and then. “I think we’ve seen it before—yeah, we did! Deer like to eat it.” She continues to read the page aloud, not noticing Sasuke looking at something at the distance. A barely audible sigh, the faintest of breaths, and he taps her shoulder when it’s clear she isn’t going to look up.

 

“Wha—” She stops, seeing what he saw. “It’s a…” Realizing how loud her voice is, she whispers, “Deer!”

 

When they head home, she gives him a sheepish and embarrassed smile. “That was exciting but I guess I’m not a good guide. Maybe next time you should lead us.”

 

He just keeps walking, a silent wrath, and she wonders if he even wants to lead.

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viii.

 

When Sasuke first came out, he stuck with her like a baby chick. He didn’t stick to her like glue, but he would be a step away when they moved. Sakura would be the one choosing where to go, leading him to her home and back.

 

He never went anywhere by himself, as though if he were alone something would swoop down and carry him away. They didn’t go to crowded places either, for the first little while, just to her home and his and sometimes even the woods. Was he afraid of people or did he just dislike the crowd? She didn’t know.

 

After carrying on like this, she finally pulled him into a library. It was cosy and small, a nearly abandoned place during the summer when no student crammed in the forgotten corners and flipped through pages of old runes.

 

“It’s silent like your house,” she commented when they walked in, “And just as dusty.”

 

And, like that, Sasuke started to explore a little. He would take two, three, ten steps away from her when they walked, taking in everything with a quick glance. Sometimes he would see something curious and tug her hand, pointing it out with a subtle nod.

 

She feels like he is rediscovering the world, seeing how everything has changed while he was gone.

 

She also feels like he doesn’t quite want to show how interested he is—his pride remains intact after all those years.

 

Sakura really shouldn’t be surprised when he shows up at her door, all by himself without her having to go get him. He is already walking further and further away from her, so it makes sense that he is walking around outside by himself. He probably takes walks when he’s home alone.

 

None of this should be surprising but she can’t help but gasp when she opens the door and sees his face.

 

“You did it,” she tells him with a smile, giving him a hug, and thinks this is what a parent feels, this pride and joy.

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ix.

 

Then, one day, she doesn’t see him.

 

For _several_ days, she doesn’t see him. She goes to his not-as-old-and-scary house. It looks nearly inviting, with the new curtains she put in and the open windows. The door’s unlocked and she would be touched by the trust he has in her except for the fact that no one’s home.

 

She goes to their old haunts, starting with her home incase she missed him heading there. The muddy, winding forest trails remain the same as the last time they went, just as hard to follow with plant growth creeping on them. His favourite corner in the library has a week’s worth of dust on it and her favourite park is filled with little kids playing hide and seek.

 

Sasuke is nowhere to be found and she panics for a moment. Panics and then thinks, _maybe he’s out by himself today._

 

That thought doesn’t work after the third day. This must be the other side of a parent’s love, the side that knows that they might never see their child again.

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x.

 

“He’s not around again?” her mother asks. Sakura knows she’s concerned but it feels like she expected this, like she thought that Sasuke would leave her. Thoughts of defending him dance through her mind but she closes her green eyes and calms herself.

 

“He’s busy.” It isn’t a full lie—he probably is. She just doesn’t know what he’s doing.

 

“Mmmm…”

 

Sakura turns back to the door. “I’m going out for a bit.” She doesn’t want to go back to his house—it looks like an abandoned den, the residents hunting in new grounds.

 

She ends up going there anyways because she doesn’t know where else to wait.

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xi.

 

It’s late afternoon when she sees him again. He’s approaching his house, striding towards her quickly, and she wonders if he expected her to be there. Does that make her predictable, then, that he can find her so easily, or does that just make him observant?

 

“Where were you?” she asks (demands) as she runs to him, cutting the distance between them in half. Sakura’s ready to beret him until she sees his eyes, the cool hard determination in them. It falls on her hand like a rock and she holds it for a moment before she falls silent. Something about the way he looks at her cuts off any words in her throat.

 

“Come,” he says simply, everything about him is simple and straight to the point, and she obeys. She trails after him as they go past his house and into the forest beyond them. They’ve never been there before, having gone to the hiking parks near her house instead.

 

It’s cooler in there and she shivers at the sudden darkness, at the patches of light that splatter the earth like drops of blood. A monster might come out at any sound and her footsteps give a muffled sound. The air is still, her breathing ragged, and she remains silent the whole time.

 

When they finally stop, it’s in a clearing. The sun is lower in the sky, the treetops cradling it, and the sky is now a deeper blue. Small markers dot the field, like pearls on a necklace, with small lights stringing them together. Incense and candles mark each spot, lighting the darkening field like fireflies that flicker and dance across a spider’s web.

 

He stops in front of three, small photographs at its foot, and she can make out his parents and brother’s name. This is their grave, his whole clan’s grave, and the loss he had becomes more tangible. She can feel it, taste it, and she isn’t sure if that’s a good thing.

 

Still, Sakura knows just what he had to go through to do this, just what inner demons he had to face. A way to say goodbye, a way to move on, there are so many meanings behind this action and she can’t read them all. It’s too hard to find all the messages he is giving her so she takes the obvious one and reaches for his hand before squeezing it quickly. It’s hesitant but she can feel his fingers twine in hers and he’s holding her hand just as tightly.

 

Sometimes, actions conveyed more than words ever could.


End file.
